


After the Long Night

by aurelya



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurelya/pseuds/aurelya
Summary: Gendrya centric fanfic taking place after S08E03, which I loved!  Hoping to get to Gendrya sexy times, but lets see where it goes.This is my first FF, so please be gentle.  No proof yet, so probably error riddled.Cheers ya'll!





	1. ~ Arya ~

Arya leans against the tree and tries to catch her breath.  She closes her eyes and internally assesses her injuries.  Her body aches.  Her head throbs.  Her throat—she’s not even sure how to describe the pain.  It hurts to swallow.  It hurts when she turns to look at Bran.  
  
She takes in her brother, sitting serenely in his chair.  He is uninjured and deep in his own head.  She can hear some shouting in the distance, cheers and screams.  She knows people will be making their way to the Godswood soon, and she does not want to be here for that.  She is so very tired, and she has to see if her other loved ones are safe.  See that _he_ is safe. She will be faster in the shadows.  
  
“Bran,” Arya starts slowly, looking at Theon’s lifeless body a few feet away, red snow around him like a halo.  “Theon gave his life to protect you, to protect us all.  Let people believe he struck the final blow, that it was he who killed the Night King.”  
  
Bran continues to stare off into the distance.  She has no idea if he has heard her.  She can hear voices getting closer.  She wants to be away from here.  She needs a moment to catch her breath.  She turns back to Bran.  “I’m going back to the castle.  Do you want me to take you with me?”  
  
Bran moves his head as if to look her way, but gazes past her, looking at the horizon.  She waits, tries to be patient, but the sounds are growing in volume.  Finally, Bran utters cryptically, “Tdruth is the weapon that men must see.”  She has no idea with that means, and her patience has waned.  
  
She looks at him, and he meets her eyes this time.  “I cannot tell them anything but the truth.  Death has claimed many lives, yet spared many others.  He will not be quieted.  He will receive his due tribute.”  
  
   
  
Well that cleared things up.  “That is fine,” she says, more snappish than she intends.  “Tell them Theon and the God of Death triumphed.  I’m going now.”  Arya hugs Bran, and he whispers, “What do we say to the God of Death?”  Arya draws in a sharp breath.  “Not today.”  She then soundlessly slips behind the tree, disappearing into the darkness.


	2. ~ Jon ~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation, short chapter 2

Jon is the first to see Bran.  As Jon rushes to him, he stumbles when he sees Theon’s body on the ground, a spear protruding from his chest.  Theon’s eyes are open but unfocused.  Jon holds back his sob; there is too much to be done now to mourn him properly.  Too many others to mourn.  Kneeling down, He kisses Theon’s forehead and closes Theon’s eyes.  “Thank you for defending the pack, son of Winterfell,” Jon whispers.  Until we meet again.  May the old Gods and new speed you on journey.”  Jon limps towards Bran, who watches silently from his chair.  Off-colored ice sprinkled around.  Jon falls to his knees and hugs Bran fiercely.  “Thank you,” Jon cries, holding Bran’s head against him.  He has no idea who is among the living, but he knows how very close it was for him.  His heart stops a beat when he thinks about Dany.  Arya.  Sansa.  Jon pulls back from Bran, looking for injuries.  “Are you well?”  “Yes, as is your Queen.  She waits for you at the hearth.”  Jon moves to wheel Bran from the wood, but Bran stops him.  “I must wait here for the message.  Go to her.  She is in need of your strength.”  Jon places a soft kiss on Bran’s temple.  “I’ll send someone shortly,” Jon tells Bran, and he turns away.


	3. ~ Arya ~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation

Arya watches from the shadows of the turret.  She can see Jon and the dragon queen holding one another.  Others cheer and embrace them or clasp hands.  Somehow Tyrion has found and opened a skein of wine, which he begins passing around.  Next to him, her sister looks shaken, but whole.  Sansa and Jon come together and hug.  They start to look around, and she knows they are looking for her.  She is not ready yet to join them.  She continues scanning the crowd.  Ser Brienne and the Kingslayer help Podrick to a medic.  All are covered in blood and gore, and it is unclear if any are really injured.  Jon’s friend Sam hold his wife and little Sam, the three sobbing with relief that they are alive.  Ser Davos directs traffic, sending out those able to search for living, and helping the injured move to a triage area.  She does not see Gendry, and her hopes of finding him alive are diminishing by the second.  He’s not really a fighter, no matter what he says.  Her eyes continue to search, but the sheer number of casualties surrounding and about the castle is astronomical.  She tries not to think it, but fears continue to creep into her mind, and she cannot help but wonder if the God of Death took his life as payment in exchange for Bran’s, or another Jon’s.  She knows death does not work this way, but living through death after death of loved ones can’t help but make one think she is cursed and the cause of so much heartache.  “Please not Gendry,” she whispers into the air.  “Not today.”  
  
She hears someone coming and slips further back into the darkness, waiting, hoping he has found her.


	4. ~ Arya ~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continuation

She hears someone coming and slips further back into the darkness.  She waits with baited breath, hoping he has found her.  But a tall man with a burned face and stringy hair emerges.  She rolls her eyes.  Of course he found her.  She steps back out of the darkness and begins her search again.  The Hound says nothing, just looks her over as if to make sure she is in one piece, then hands her a skein.  “What is it?” she asks, hoping it is just water.  “Does it fucking matter?” the Hound answers her, softer than she would have expected.  She shrugs and chugs a mouthful.  Definitely not water.  She swallows as gracefully as possible and passes the vessel back to him.  They watch the crowd below in a companionable silence for a few minutes, but she can tell the Hound is watching her search the crowd.  He sighs at last and says, “You need to get your neck looked at.”  He turns her head so he can inspect her, manhandling her face.  He tugs her chin, and a spike of pain radiates down her spine.  She grunts in pain and pulls out of his grasp.  He looks pissed.  “Are those fucking ice burns?”  She shrugs.  “I’m fine.”  He harrumphs but doesn’t fuss any further.  “You need to cover it then.  Once your boy and your brother see those handprints, you’re going to be ushered off to the healer.”  She turns sharply and looks at Sandor, really looking at him.  He too is covered in death, and he looks haggard.  “That got your bloody attention,” he says, rolling his eyes.  “If you don’t get down there soon, the fucking lot will think you dead.”  “My boy?” she asks, without emotion.  He starts to roll his eyes again, but she does not pretend any further, rushing on, “I thought him dead.”  She not surprised to hear a tremble in her voice.  “Where?  I’ve not seen him.”  “He was looking for you,” nodding his head in toward the door.  “He was in the hall, last I saw him.”  She looks at the man, the Hound, for a few more seconds, clasps his forearm, and nods a thank you.  He nods back at her.  No words need to be spoken; they saved each other once again tonight.  “Your brother is next,” she tells him, squeezing his arm in relief? Reassurance?  She does not know, but she has better things to do, so she slips away.


End file.
